Tea, milk and cookies
by Pranksta
Summary: Pink goop, a transporter and tea break on Atlantis lead to one loquacious astrophysicist.


Angela is the best. Really, it's been proven!

**Notes: **Spoilers for Grace Under Pressure. I was challenged with talkative claustrophia exploration. The following is what happened...sorry!

**Tea, milk and cookies**

Until the end of their days, every member of the original expedition, those that had walked through the Stargate in search of knowledge and adventure without assurance they would ever see their native world again, would remember the sunny and lazy afternoon when Atlantis shook. Fuelled by a power they had no chance of ever containing, the walls of the benevolent shelter yielded to allow the ultimate force to free itself.

Sound resounded through the mess hall, the gate room, the gym. It slipped into the common room and the living quarters, waking those that slumbered, making hands drop their cargo in a great wave of surprised clumsiness. The fall of Radek Zelenka's glasses, as he sat up startled out of his work, went unnoticed by their owner and they slipped to the desk in a clatter of metal and glass. Elizabeth Weir's attention was pulled from her report making her leave a mistake that would have Daniel Jackson chuckling when, a galaxy away, he read that Doctor McKay was a hardworking man and they were glad to hate him. He would share this news with Samantha Carter, whilst they waited for the gate to activate, which would lead her to say, after the required Freudian slip gag, that Atlantis was in fact lucky to _have_ McKay, and conclude that it was "better them than us."

Carson Beckett's eye gained a nice colouring from colliding roughly with the eyepiece of the microscope to which it was glued. On this day of merciful rest, he had crept away from the lived-in sections of their city with the old-fashioned apparatus to lose himself in the soothing pleasure of traditional research.

In the mess hall, Ronon's forkful of mashed potatoes went Teyla's way, forcing her to glare in great discontent as white mush flopped from her cheek to the table. It was quickly scooped up by the owner and eaten without a thought. Teyla shivered and held in the sigh that threatened to escape as she thought of the three men that had become her family.

The mighty presence causing such disruption reached as far as the unexplored depth of their fair city and further still as the birds on the mainland took flight. Even Jinto, busy perfecting his football skills amongst friends, eagerly anticipating Teyla and her team's next visit, stopped the movement that would've led to the best throw of his life.

All these missed opportunities and mishaps were traced back to one force of nature, one power which none other could match. The warning of its release had come in the form of a scowl and a long intake of breath before, as a certain Colonel would later recount with a teasing grin, all Hell broke loose.

"SHEPPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARD"

It was all Laura Cadman could do to avoid the speeding mass that came barrelling down the corridor cackling joyfully. It did manage to swerve off course and offer her a friendly, "Lieutenant!" before turning the corner. This black-clad gentleman was closely followed by a pink-covered man doing a famously good impression of an angered bull, steaming nostrils and all. "YOU'RE DEAD, SHEPPARD! DEAD!"

Bemused, Laura watched the Chief Scientist of Atlantis chase, much faster than she would've expected, the Military Commander of same city down the corridor, dripping pink goop after every step.

Numerous heads popped out of doorways like gophers from the earth, attracted by the loud sounds and activity. Laughter echoed through the halls and Atlantis could breathe once more for she was not in danger and could resume her usual activities, having pinpointed the source of the disruptive shouts and evaluated it as childish plays rather than a threat.

John Sheppard, however, would not be resuming his usual activities for quite some time. He would instead spend many hours at a task he was accustomed to, out of the confines of Atlantis. He would spend a small part of his day running from a threatening figure, then attempting to save said figure and keep his concerned community informed, to ultimately be called-upon to assure Rodney McKay's continued sanity by way of the commlink.

Yes, this day would be filled with the constituent of the best missions, minus his team's physical presence and the unfamiliar environment off-world travel insured.

**-OOOOO-**

The power, a true force of nature, was relentless in its pursuit. As it sank further into the ghostly sections of Atlantis, chasing its prey with single-minded resolve, it echoed through the city. It reached Elizabeth's ear as she reclined in her chair no longer concerned with her report. It reached the gentle doctor whose bruised eye was being carefully examined by a smirking Lieutenant who had come to relate the chase she had witnessed. It reached the mischievous engineer who enjoyed a spot of North American comedy once in a while, especially those that involved his arch nemesis and great friend, one Doctor Rodney McKay. It would eventually reach Daniel Jackson's ears through a proficient medium and the instant attention getters that are the words 'you'll never guess what happened'…regardless of the fact that it was an inter-galactic piece of gossip rather than an inter-office one.

Bringing a hand to his radio, the Mighty McKay tuned an open channel, the one that was, by a lucky coincidence, a permanent fixture in most of the population's ear. "I will find you, Sheppard; I will find you and make you so sorry you ever crossed my path that even your mutant grandchildren will speak the name McKay in fear."

"I'm already sorry I crossed your path. Every day of my life I ask why, why God, why do you force me to suffer such torture!"

"Oh no no no. You've seen nothing yet. What you might've thought was torture will seem a night of football, beer and pizza once I'm done with you."

"I've done the pizza and booze thing with you. It's not pretty with the bitching, the gas and the philosophical quack theories of your lightweight-drinker tendencies. I think I've suffered enough. "

"You would think so, camouflage-wearing, oxygen-deprived at birth, sorry excuse for a sentient being that you are."

"I thought you liked camouflage, I wear it only for you! You wound me, McKay." Sheppard ambled on, unconcerned by Rodney's threats. He had to be found before any of McKay's evil plans could come into effect. He spared a glance for the Life Sign Detector held loosely in his hand before engaging to the left at the crossroad of corridors.

"I will." McKay's grin could be heard in his voice and it prompted many other mouths to curl upward. He knew he was hardly threatening when speaking of bodily harm, but it did not stop him from trying. "I'll mess you up so nice even Carson won't be able to fix you!" Unwittingly, he had paid a compliment to the listening CMO who smiled with blackmailing glee, and a little pride, as he settled in the mess hall surrounded by three lovely lasses and a mountain of a man. Tea break in Atlantis always involved good company, never any real tea, and was taken whenever there was time, or some sort of entertainment. A day off always held unexpected surprises, hence the tea break.

"I quake in my big black boots."

"So you should! In fact, I think you should quake a lot more than you are now. I only hear big black boots hitting the ground at a lazy-ass pace. You should be running while you've got the chance."

"You gots lot of galls telling me how to walk. This here's my territory pardner! You turn right 'round and go back to your labs, nobody gets a hurtin'."

"You foolin' yourself chump. I rule this city, from its underbelly to the highest tower."

"Good for nothin' bragger, you talk the talk but I ain't ever seen you walk the walk."

"I do the talking, gots me some minions for the walking." McKay was nearing the transporter that would take him straight to the corridor Sheppard was prowling.

Zelenka shook his head and muttered in his cursing way; 'minions' being the only recognizable word, the rest a deluge of Czech. He entered the control room and saluted his fellow men –oooh, and women – who, like him, were listening to their Tyrant's playtime.

"Gots yourself some minions to take care of that colour too? Sure enough, pink's your shade, suits you just dandy." John made a visual sweep of the immediate area. Finding no scientist a'lurking he proceeded into a new corridor, away from the transporter.

"Pink will be your death. It will coat your nightmares and you shall recoil in horror when it appears before you. Pepto Bismol will keep you in the throes of despair as you run in womanly terror."

Sheppard could follow McKay, genre for genre. "I will not bow down before your pitiful threat! Your pinkish hue will not rule John Sheppard!" The fact that he was well-passed childhood and playing hide-and-seek with a colleague did not bother him in the slightest. The Pegasus Galaxy offered much doom and gloom but so little rest and relaxation that he was always a willing participant. As was McKay, who enjoyed their theatrics to a level unbecoming of a certified genius. John grinned, for today he allowed himself light-heartedness, leaving the heaviness of his position as CO sitting beside his mission gear.

Rodney reached the transporter and entered it. The doors closed just as the pink goop proceeded to make its function apparent. Blue eyes widened as the klaxons sounded throughout the city. This was not the usual off-world activation.

"Are we in –," came the puzzled voice of John Sheppard, reaching his audience who was, quite frankly, wondering the same thing. Sheppard's question was cut off by the slamming of the transporter doors and McKay's answering whisper. "Lockdown."

John Sheppard ran for the doors, which shut McKay in a small cell-like space, thinking that his tracking skills had improved.

**-OOOOO-**

As Atlantis busily set to the task of protecting herself and her people, she was slightly distracted by a loud sound. This one was connected to the playful ones of earlier and ignored. It did, however, draw the attention of a few members of staff, those that were connected to the frequency that distributed the enraged and slightly panicked shouts of the force of nature.

"Oh my GOD! What's happening! OW! Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow! OW!"

"McKay?" John laid a hand on the transporter's control panel and asked it politely to open the doors. It did not. He asked it pleadingly. It did not.

"It's GOING IN! It's going IN!" The goop made its way into McKay's body, leaving behind a faint trace of colour that nestled into creases of skin, lining the pale covering it had just penetrated. "It's burning! CHRIST!"

In the mess hall, eyes widened with worry as Elizabeth, Teyla, Ronon and Laura watched Carson's hand activate his radio and make his listening ways known. "Rodney? Are you alright?"

"NO, I'm NOT alright! That pink monster is burning me from the inside! It's moving! DO SOMETHING!"

Beckett frowned. "Rodney. Calm yourself down and tell me what's happening."

"It's going in! It's all over me! It's IN me and it burns! Christ! What _is_ it?" Rodney watched in appalled horror as his skin lifted and rolled and he felt a wave of _something_ bury inside his flesh. It rolled over his arms up to his shoulders, down his back, over his bottom and down the back of his legs. Reaching his feet it doubled back on the frontal side of his body. He saw his skin take on a strange glittering quality and as the wave under his skin receded, a shower of glittery powder covered the floor and filled the air.

ACHOO.

More glitter flew through the air.

ACHOO.ACHOO.

"Oh you've got to be –"

ACHOO. ACHOO. ACHOO.

"—kidding me!" Rodney's eyes narrowed and he glared at the disco-like air that surrounded him. "Sheppard! This is all your fault!"

"How'd you figure that?"

"You activated that triangle!"

"You asked me to!"

The bickering was interrupted by Beckett's voice. "Rodney? What's happened?"

"I'm...pink…and glitterized. And burning!"

"What kind of burning? Fever, an itch? You'll have to be more specific. How's your breathing? Pulse?"

ACHOO.

"Fine! It's fine! Breathing's perfectly fine. It's like a burning! You've seen fire before Carson! Fire burns, the pink burns! My pulse is horrendous, as I am dying, alone in a transporter!"

John witnessed a freak-out in the making as awareness of his surroundings hit McKay. "I'm in a transporter. In lockdown, in a transporter." Breathing came faster and John could only imagine how erratic Rodney's pulse was.

Beckett's voice communicated an understanding of the situation by its no-nonsense yet comforting tone. "Now Rodney, we'll get you out of there soon."

Zelenka confirmed the doctor's soothing promise. "Yes, yes. I am in control room. Will have this fixed in no time."

Unfortunately, the rolling wave chose this moment to come back and as Rodney's skin moved and lifted to accommodate the goop in his body so did his panic. "Oh God! I'm going to die! In a transporter! Alone! Do something! Someone do something! You need me you ungrateful bastards! Don't leave me to die here! Stupid Ancients with their stupid devices! Damn city! Let me out, you aged nuisance! Let. ME. OUT!" Unable to do anything but panic, Rodney gave himself fully.

John heard the sounds of a fist hitting the door against which his hand rested and wished he could help. He continued to threaten the transporter's control panel with all kinds of violent ends so it would allow him access to his increasingly frantic friend. The problem seemed to be that it was not keeping John out, but Rodney in. "It'll be fine, McKay. How bad can pink goop be?"

"It can be bad! Remember the energy-eating creature? This is the same. Pink goo that eats ME is bad! Very very bad!"

ACHOO. ACHOO. ACHOO. Glitter flew everywhere. It came out of Rodney's pores and filled the air.

"Bad like twenty-five idiots crowding you or bad like there's no more coffee?" Forcing McKay to think of other horrors that could befall him, those too far to cause any harm, might help restore some calm to his very agitated self.

"Both are equally bad! You want me to chose give me two options that are not the same! Were you dropped on your head as an infant! Idiots or coffee! Don't you think I have enough problems as it is? You want to throw Kolya and lemonade in there? Maybe no more power and breakdown of the waste system? A hundred Hive Ships on the way! I'm dying from pink goo, Sheppard! Leave me alone!" He changed his mind rapidly. "No! No no no! Don't you dare go anywhere!"

"I'm right here." He thumped twice on the transporter door to make his presence known, or felt.

"Oh great! That brings wonderful memories back! Why am I always the one stuck in metal boxes devoid of air? Um? Why is it always me who gets into these things! ZELENKA! You better get me out, you furry vengeful rat!"

Zelenka's hands were busily negotiating McKay's release with Atlantis, but she wanted nothing of it. He had set a technician on the task of releasing the captive of the mess hall, and the scientist in the lab where the device had been were frantically searching for information pertaining to its purpose. Covering someone in burying pink goop was just not enough. "We are working on it. You will soon be free to resume game with little Colonel playmate."

ACHOO. ACHOO.ACHOO.

"I HATE GLITTER!" Rodney slid to the floor and hid his head under his shirt, holding the grey fabric over his mouth and nose to filter his breathing air.

"Why's that?" John settled himself on the cold floor and let his head rest against the transporter door. Unbeknownst to both men, they were sitting back to back, one mirroring the other.

"I just do," Rodney grumped.

"Nobody hates glitter just because. Did you have an unfortunate Christmas accident where kids wrapped you in tinsel garlands to shut you up?" John would cling to any subject that came his way. He was unconcerned by the eavesdropping population that witnessed this feeble taunt, his only thought for the scared man a foot away.

"It has to do with Halloween and my sister's princess phase, that's all I'm saying."

"Ummmm. Next leave, I'm calling her up. There must be pictures."

Zelenka chimed in, happily joining in the Rodney-baiting fun, if only to force the CSO to forget his predicament. The heavy breathing coming through the earpiece told him there was much fear to be found in the transporter. "Copies for science staff if you please, Colonel."

John snorted. "Copies for everyone. I'll hand them out on missions."

"Radek! Don't you have work to do? Like, say, getting me out of this tomb!" Rodney was working very hard at ignoring the glitter and the pink and the confinement.

"Am capable of working and talking at the same time, unlike some large-mouthed mammal I know."

ACHOO. ACHOO. ACHOO.

Rodney was reminded of the large whale that had had designs on his tender flesh not so long ago and he tried very hard not to whimper. Even though he was in a familiar setting, he still had difficulty handling small, enclosed spaces that contained less air than Kavanagh's head. He tried, but did not succeed.

"McKay? You okay in there?"

"No."

John had not expected an honest answer. "Oh…"

It was fortunate that Carson knew how to respond, for the Colonel was doing a poor impression of a comforting friend. "Are you in pain, Rodney?"

"It doesn't burn anymore, but this glitter is getting everywhere."

"Try to breathe through your shirt."

"Yes, thank you Carson, what a marvellous idea, I hadn't thought of that!"

Carson rolled his eyes. "Am I to assume you've done it then?"

"Yes, your help is precious. I'm so glad to know I will have my death called by such a competent physician." For all his bluster, Rodney was quite glad to be in contact with competent people, such as they were.

"Are you able to breathe properly?"

"For now. I'll let your know when there's no more air in here."

John wanted reassurance, not McKay drama. "That's unlikely, right Doctor Z?"

"Transporter is not meant to keep matter in, so is not connected to…" An expletive and he was gone.

"Hello? Doctor Z? Radek!"

Rodney let his head fall back against the door and hoped Radek would find a way to get the air flowing. "He's going to try to reconnect the transporters with the environmental control. It was using power, so we rerouted the flow."

"Well that wasn't smart."

"Yes, now let's all jump up and down and marvel that the sky is blue! I _know_! I'm the one who's going to asphyxiate here!" Rodney's breathing sped up again as his mind was filled with images of a time long passed, a similar situation and no one to hear him.

"Hey. Calm down, it's all right. We'll get you out; we've got a city full of geniuses."

This time around, Rodney would trust his fellow brains. They'd gotten him out before, there was no reason they wouldn't come through this time, was there? Besides, he had nothing to work with but a LSD and no choice in the matter.

**-OOOOO-**

A long game of prime/not prime later, followed by much spouting of quack theories by an increasingly confused Rodney, Atlantis released her hold on her occupants. All rejoiced; Zelenka smiled with satisfaction, Elizabeth hurried to her office, Teyla and Ronon headed out to meet their team-mates and Carson hurried to the infirmary, expecting Rodney in all his irate glory, a teasing but relieved Laura by his side.

"Colonel, is he alright to walk back or should I come down meself?"

John blinked his confusion, Rodney's chatter ever-present in his ear, and got up off the floor. "The doors didn't open."

In the middle of a congratulatory huddle, it took a few seconds for the new information to be processed in Zelenka's brain. "…not open?"

"No, he's still in there." John jumped, startled, when Rodney made his displeasure known, loudly.

"I'm STILL STUCK IN HERE! Hurray! Atlantis has released us all! Hurray! McKay, pain in the ass, is still trapped and DYING! GET ME OUT! This is NOT funny! GET ME OUT you BASTARDS! JOHN! Do something! Don't leave me in here! I can't BREATHE! There's glitter everywhere and there's no air! Get me out!"

"Calm down, Rodney! Stop shouting!"

"NO I WILL NOT STOP SHOUTING! I WANT OUT!"

The Colonel took a step back as loud thumping sounds came from the door. Irrational fear that he would be left to suffocate gripped McKay and he threw himself against the doors with increasing force, instantly brought back to that time when air was the least of his concern, when he wished, innocently and childishly, for the end to come. "GET.ME.OUT! Please!" He continued to slam himself against the door, succeeding only in injuring himself and breathing in a copious amount of glitter.

ACHOO. ACHOO. ACHOO.

"I don't like it here! Let me out! Let me out!" The walls disappeared and Rodney saw orderly bookshelves, a large desk and uncomfortable chair. The upright piano, filling the back wall of the room, was the only good piece of furniture to be found. "A surprise," his father had said, "a room just for you so you can study and practice without bothering everyone". It had been wonderful, until curiosity had gotten the better of Rodney, sent him on a foolish quest and gotten him in trouble. Then the room that was just for him was not so nice and cosy anymore.

"We'll get you out." John saw Teyla and Ronon arrive, along with a handful of scientists, led by Zelenka. They all stopped, surprised at the noise coming from the transporter.

John was forced to grip Zelenka's shoulder and push him towards the control panel. "You need to get him out of there fast!"

"I will try. I do not understand why he has not been released. Doors across the city opened, all but this one."

"He's losing it. We need to get him out _now_."

"Yes, yes, but Atlantis still perceives a threat. It is the glitter, I think. It is defensive, incredibly ingenious. Feel threatened and poof, release substance to incapacitate threat, leaving you safe to run far away. Strong narcotic in innocent-looking glitter, but leaves the releaser unaffected."

"There's no threat in there! What does Rodney have to incapacitate!"

"One of Rodney's many fears. Claustrophobia. Enclosed space is perceived threat. He is a big baby, afraid of his shadow." The last part was spoken in the radio, so that Rodney had plenty cause for reacting with angry berating.

He didn't. He could be heard muttering about a multitude of things, a jumble of thoughts, but he seemed unaffected by Radek's obvious insult.

"He _has_ lost it." John listened to Rodney's high-pitched whine that seemed to indicate he was not quite in control of his faculties and, judging from the distant sound, had lost his radio.

"Let me out. Let me out. I don't like it here." Rodney relived the too numerous days that had ended like this, with his younger self locked into his study, as he pompously called it. Too many nights spent waiting for Jeanie to come and get him out. He was fairly certain he would be let out this time, though he doubted anyone would offer him a cuddle with milk and cookies before tucking him into bed, as she had done. Too bad, he knew John had a few sweet snacks hidden away. "Let me out. Let me out. Let me out." He hadn't been a bad son, simply too curious. Curiosity killed the cat, they say. Not likely, curiosity got Rodney in sensory deprivation. The lock would slide in, the lights would blink out and the sounds of the house would disappear. He'd have only his voice to hear, to be entertained and reassured by.

John drew closer to the door as Zelenka and his team started to work. "Rodney! Rodney!"

As he had done many years before, Rodney slid down to the floor and rested his head on arms that encircled his knees. Again, he heard Jeanie's voice as she promised she would return when their parents were asleep. By that time, Rodney was always lost, scared and breathing with great difficulty, whispering sentences that only made sense to him. Much as he was now, with the added annoyance of glitter. Pounding above his head forced him to lend an ear.

"Pick up your earpiece! RODNEY! YOUR EARPIECE!" John pounded his fist as hard as he could and knew Rodney heard him.

Rodney's eyes scanned the floor, his mind still lost in the past, wondering when he had gotten an earpiece and why. He searched through the glitter and finally located the tiny twig-like object. He placed it in his ear and heard an anxious voice. "Jeanie?"

"No, it's John. Rodney, talk to me buddy."

"John." Oh wow, he really sounded pitiful. He couldn't help it, and there was nothing wrong with that! Was there? Many people had phobias, his just happened to be plentiful and overwhelming. It certainly wasn't his fault! It wasn't his fault he was thinking of Jeanie either, she had always made his fears disappear. God, he missed her, especially now that he had seen her again, met the woman she had become. His sister…so strong yet still so soft. Jeanie…

John listened to Rodney's musing and discovered a little more about the man that had become a brother to him. "We're going to get you out soon. I'll be right here when we do, okay?"

"Yeah. Can you hurry a little, air's short in here." He laughed nervously and continued talking to himself, recounting memorable days, humming music pieces he enjoyed, reciting excerpts from his favourite corpus, from Shakespeare to Roddenberry.

John's eyes found the back of Zelenka's head and attempted to dig a hole through it. Alas, x-ray vision was not one of his many talents. "Air? Didn't you get that going?"

Radek nodded. "Yes, it is a simple matter of bypassing the…" Perfect timing, the science community of Atlantis had; they always left success to the last minute.

Cold air rushed down on Rodney and was quickly sucked out. He breathed deeply as the glitter receded, taken away from his cell.

"You okay?"

He took in one long breath before answering. "Air. Good"

"Yeah, I'll bet. Shouldn't be long now, it'll take that glitter and Atlantis should let you out."

"Ok."

"You're going to be fine."

"Ok. I'm going to be fine. Of course I am. I'm always fine aren't I? I can conquer all. Wasn't there a song like that? I am the conqueror? Ummm, can't be sure, sounds familiar. This ventilation system is really something, you know. The Ancients screwed up, a lot, but they were good engineers, no doubt about that. Perfect circuitry, beautiful yet functional design fabricated with lasting material. Ten thousand years! That's a long time for a city to be standing, after a war no less. Did you see London after the bombings! Sure enough, that was not Ancient design. Great bombs though. I like bombs, when I'm controlling them. Not so fond of the rest of them. Bad for London, nice city. Overpopulated but nice. That's why I like Canada, not too many people and lots of land; I miss it sometimes. The US was similar, but never really home. Funny, I've spent less time in Atlantis and feel more comfortable here than I ever did anywhere. Not so funny I suppose, when you consider this the ultimate wet-dream of real scientists everywhere."

When Zelenka stated that he had done what he could, it was simply a matter of time, John sent the scientists back topside and waited, with Teyla and Ronon, for Atlantis to release their very own personal motor mouth. They listened quietly to his rambling, dropping in the monologue when the litany of plea started.

"Let me out. Let me out. Let me out. Let me out. I don't like it in here. Please."

"Rodney."

"Ummm?"

"We're getting you out."

"Right." The disjointed mumbling started up again. "I didn't like it in high school either. What a miserable place that was. Miss James made it bearable. Miss James, she was a piece of work, wouldn't let me get away with anything the old harpy! Better than grandmother, I swear, she had a piece of coal put in, instead of her heart, so she would die a rich woman. Anyways, I didn't like it because it was a bit curly and I really didn't like the look. It wasn't even done on purpose; it was just my bad luck! One girl in math class used to run her hair through it, which was good, I didn't mind that, because it was soft, she said. That's back when I could still understand women a little. If they liked you, you knew. Well, I did. Well, okay, it was just Angela who was straightforward and told me she thought I was cute, in a weird sort of way, but it doesn't change the fact that she liked me and I knew and it's a good thing I understood it all anyways, because grade ten math was one class I missed, even though I was present for each one. The 80's. Ah!"

Carson appeared, his kit in tow, having been informed that his patient was soon to be released. "How is he?"

"Calmer."

"That's not saying much, Colonel."

John smiled wryly. "He's just talking."

Carson tuned in Rodney's mumbling and joined the others on the floor.

"I really don't like this. Why won't you let me out? I haven't done anything and I really really don't like it here. I've not insulted anyone, have I? It wasn't my fault! I didn't mean to! If anything, people should learn to calm themselves down and not take everything personally. You can't say anything anymore. It's all PC this and censorship that! I'm sorry, ok? Just let me out!"

"Rodney."

"I didn't even say anything. I was just trying to catch Sheppard. I wasn't doing anything bad."

"Rodney!"

"It wasn't my fault! It was the device! I don't even like glitter, so you can't say I wanted this! I wanted to know what it did! How is that a bad thing?"

"Rodneeeey."

"Yes!"

Noting the lack of sharpness in the tone and the overabundance of hopeful eagerness, John gentled his voice. "Who are you talking to?"

"No one. Why are you listening to me?"

"To make sure you're okay."

"Well, I'm not. Stop listening."

Carson's mother hen tendencies broke the surface. "Are you still in pain? Is your breathing better?"

"Oh, hello Carson. Come to my funeral party?"

"You're not dying. You'll be out soon."

"Easy for you to say, you're out there already. Why won't you let me out now? I haven't done anything!" Somehow, McKay's mind had decided that he was being punished for an unknown deed and would not let the thought go, no matter how hard Rodney tried to convince himself this was an accident, these were different circumstances. This was a new life.

"Rodney, will you just answer me question! Are you in pain?"

"My eyes are burning, my throat hurts, my nose if full of glitter and my shoulder's throbbing. I have a headache and I'm still pink. Happy? Can I come out now?"

"Soon."

"I knew it. I knew you had it in for me." Rodney took up his mumbling once more.

**-OOOOO-**

When the doors opened, Rodney fell backward, collapsing on top of John. He was helped up by Ronon and Carson, as Teyla assisted the crushed Colonel.

It was Carson's pleasure to start fussing right away. "Here you are, then. That wasn't so bad, was it?" He received a frown for his efforts and revised his last statement. "Ah well, you're out now." A hand closed over Rodney's wrist and Carson pulled him to the wheelchair he had brought, just in case. "Let me take a look at you."

John hovered a few steps away as Carson took pulse and temperature, checked pupil dilation and a shoulder bruise, asking the usual questions. He concluded that Rodney was fit to walk to the infirmary, as he was insisting. He had not considered that they would have to take the long way, but smiled and informed them that a little walk had never hurt anyone. They started the long trek back to the infirmary, John and Carson walking shoulder to shoulder with McKay, while Teyla and Ronon followed. McKay was eerily silent and it seemed a bit strange to John, not to have his voice babbling in his ear.

"So. Glitter and a princess phase."

"Shut up."

"Touchy, aren't we?"

"_We_ have spent the afternoon in a transporter, with a limited supply of air and a large quantity of glitter. _We_ are tired, hungry and thirsty and would like some peace and quiet."

"Tsk. I'm a bloody fool" Carson dug into his pack as he walked, taking out a canteen and an apple-like fruit. He first handed the canteen and watched as Rodney took a large gulp. "Not so fast! No one's gonna thieve it!" When the canteen was handed back, he gave Rodney the fruit.

"Doesn't anyone have a powerbar?"

"You consume enough of them, I'll not have you eating one when I'm here, providing something better."

"But I don't like these," Rodney whined.

"You're a dirty rotten liar, Rodney McKay! I've seen you eat them!"

Grumbling, Rodney took a bite and chewed with a vengeance. Carson smiled in answer to John's grin.

**-OOOOO-**

John entered the infirmary carefully, mindful of the slumbering patients. He moved pass the beds toward Carson's desk, where the doctor was sitting, filling out reports and charts. He raised his head when John drew closer, his super-doctor senses tingling.

"Hey Doc. How's it going?"

"Fine, fine. Quieted down at last." Carson ran a hand over his face, grateful for the restful evening. It had been quite a day, and a visit from Rodney, especially in his state, was physically and emotionally draining. He was a complicated man who, whilst needing to be comforted and pampered, would fight and belittle anyone who dared. Dealing with him was something akin to swimming against current, exerting but sometimes necessary.

"How's McKay?" John stood, hands in pockets, waiting for the update. He hadn't stayed long after McKay was settled in the infirmary, sensing that it would be a bad time for his special brand of stress-release, which was tease and tease some more. He'd found the whole ordeal quite disturbing and had hated how it brought thoughts of Rodney, facing a similar situation, alone under thousand's of gallons of seawater. Everyone, he suspected, had had similar thoughts. He knew, intellectually, what claustrophobia was but he'd never experienced it with such intensity before. Not that he'd had much to worry about, really, but in almost three years, he'd grown accustomed to his job; he had to protect Rodney and he'd failed today. He'd felt his fear, even pitied the poor man, and that wasn't right.

"He was still a little upset when he settled for the night. Should be back to his old self tomorrow, no doubt."

"No pinkish residue?"

Carson smiled tiredly. "There's still a faint trace, but it'll be gone in a few days I imagine. No more glitter."

"That's good."

"He's in the usual bed, if you want to pop by. He might be asleep, but if he's not I'm sure he'd welcome the company…even if he'll tell you otherwise."

John nodded and pushed off the wall he had been leaning against. "Right. Thanks, I'll do that."

Carson watched him walk away and hesitate at the drawn curtain hiding McKay from view. John stretched a hand and pulled it back gently, peeking in the opening. His eyes fell on a man within sleep's clutches, his head nestled in more pillows than was usually allowed. His mouth was open and he was snoring quietly. John approached the bed when he noticed the blankets were barely covering Rodney, as they had become little more than a wad of cloth resting over his left leg. John carefully grabbed the edge and pulled so it covered both sides of the bed. He pulled it up to Rodney's chest and stepped back.

He watched Rodney sleep for a moment, pondering the things he had heard today. It was obvious that Rodney's fears were real and sprung from a very bizarre childhood. He'd known Rodney's life hadn't been all fun and games, but to be pleading to be let out? To be convinced that he was kept in the transporter because he had done something wrong? That didn't sound right, especially not from McKay.

A noise took John out of his maudlin thoughts and he figured he had better get to bed as well. Pulling it from his pocket and placing it on McKay's clothes lying nearby, he hoped Rodney would like the little gingerbread man, even without milk and a cuddle. He was grateful the man was such a motor mouth, allowing most thoughts to come out in a wave of syllables; telling John the things that would make him feel better, if not happy.

**-OOOOO-**

His mouth full of doughy gingerbread goodness, Rodney wasn't complaining...or very little, for him. "CARSON! I want my laptop! Or better yet, I want OUT of this prison! I have work to do you know, it's not all hopscotch and duck, duck goose in my profession!"

**Fin**


End file.
